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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663302">Realizing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b'>storytellerof221b</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Johnlock - Freeform, Love, M/M, aftermath of rape, fantasies of rough sex, lots of emotions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:46:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock suffers from flashbacks after having looked at a horrible crime-scene for Lestrade. He has nightmares afterwards and John is very worried and concerned. The incident helps them getting closer and finally admit their feelings for each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Realizing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sherlock looked at the crime scene and wondered about the killer. Was this passion related or simply a sadistic, perverted sex accident? He moved closer while Anderson was held back by Lestrade. Unconsciously he bit his lower lip which made John shift on his feet. Slowly Sherlock walked around the corpse, tilted his head, and looked through his magnifying glass.</p><p>„Ah, so simple!“ Suddenly he burst out loud.</p><p>„What? What is?“ Lestrade asked.</p><p>„Can't you see it? It's so obvious!“ Sherlock looked at both Lestrade and John.</p><p>„What is, Sherlock? Enlighten us, please?“ John smiled one of his less pleasant smiles. Lestrade thought John had several smiles for every occasion. This one wasn't nice but Sherlock of course didn't notice.</p><p>Sherlock did enlighten everybody. Of course, he did. Then he just dashed outside his dark coat billowing around him. He looked back.</p><p>„John? Are you coming back home?“ John was surprised and smiled.</p><p>„Of course, I am coming home with you.“ Sherlock smiled, too. And if Lestrade wouldn't have known it better, he would have thought it was a goofy smile on both their faces.</p><p>Sherlock liked having John around. He was introduced to him by Mike Stamford, a teacher at the hospital where he often frequented the morgue. John and Mike had been studying together. And when he decided to move in, his life had become better. John made him eat regularly and clean up after himself. He didn't even mind. He liked the short blond. He was nicely shaped and took care of him. He did the household chores. He shopped and cleaned their flat.</p><p>***</p><p>John wondered sometimes how he had ended up with Sherlock Holmes. His old buddy Mike had introduced them because he had been looking for a flatshare and so had Sherlock Holmes. Somehow John had ended up as Sherlock's flatmate. But he liked it. It was fun.</p><p>And he didn't mind at all cleaning the flat and going shopping. He did all the chores, he washed and cooked. He even brought Sherlock's posh clothes to the dry-cleaner. Everything felt so right and he liked taking care of that ridiculous man. He made him eat on a regular basis and praised him when needed, both at home and at crime scenes.</p><p>In return, something happened to him again. He had a life.</p><p>***</p><p>“Sherlock, do you need anything from Tesco except milk and nicotine patches?”</p><p>“Lube!” Sherlock thought but didn't say.</p><p>“No, thanks, John!” He called out instead.</p><p>“You sure?” John asked again. He didn't want to go again later.</p><p>“Yes, John!” He heard John leave and lay back on his bed. He threw the duvet off his body. He got up and knelt on the mattress. One hand stroked his penis and the other one got bathed in saliva. He touched his hole and pushed two fingers inside. He spread them. Soon enough he fucked himself on his very own fingers.</p><p>He moaned, groaned, and sweated. He imagined John was doing these things to him. He had vivid images in his mind.<br/>
His cock stood straight up in front of him and he was so hard. He imagined being on his knees servicing John. He sucked him first but soon got face-fucked. John touched his throat and he swallowed obediently around him. John came deep down his throat making him swallow it all. He still was so hard. John went around and knelt behind him. He took his prick and told him to shut up. But he couldn't. He moaned and shifted in his grip.</p><p>Suddenly his wrists got tied and something huge was pushed behind his teeth. He threw his head back trying to get away but John was way stronger. The ball-gag was buckled up tight and he was tied up by now, too. Now John touched his prick and pinched his nipples, too. He deeply moaned behind his gag and started to drool.</p><p>Then he felt his prick between his cheeks and he straightened up. John pushed and he moaned. His back arched and his prick was held. He almost shrieked.</p><p>And then he violently came shooting his cum over John's hand and his own belly.</p><p>***</p><p>Sherlock heard John return from his shopping tour and his eyes shot open. His grip on his prick tightened and he pressed his face into the pillow when he came. He was panting.</p><p>“Are you still in bed, you lazy sod?” Sherlock cleared his throat and yelled:</p><p>“Yes, I am thinking!” He could hear him laugh.</p><p>“Yes, right, Sherlock!” Said one just wiped the sweat off his forehead and quickly disappeared into the bath.</p><p>***</p><p>John turned around when Sherlock entered the kitchen. Freshly showered and immaculately dressed as ever.</p><p>“Coffee?” He handed over his mug and Sherlock just took it passing by.</p><p>“You are welcome!” Sherlock stood in front of the window and looked outside watching the people passing by. His mobile dinged and he read the message. He shot a text back and someone called him. John heard Lestrade's ringtone. Sherlock answered right away.</p><p>“Yes, Lestrade?” Sherlock intently listened.</p><p>“Another? But I told you already who your killer was.” More listening.</p><p>“Already arrested. Hm. Same way. OK, Lestrade. We are on our way.” He ended the call.</p><p>“John, are you coming?” John joined him.</p><p>“Another killing?”</p><p>“Yes, same as before.”</p><p>“Even though they arrested your suspect?”</p><p>“Yes. I wonder ...” John looked at him.</p><p>“What?” But Sherlock shook his head.</p><p>“Nothing. Not yet.” He grabbed his coat and John slipped into his shoes.</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“The London Eye.” John was surprised.</p><p>“Really? Someone got killed inside a cabin?”</p><p>“Lestrade said we'd be surprised.”</p><p>“So, let's go get surprised then.” He grinned and Sherlock very much liked this. John put their pots off the stove and saved their food. They left their flat and Sherlock hailed a cab.</p><p>***</p><p>Lestrade watched them arrive. He saw how John looked at Sherlock from behind when he followed him. Then he watched Sherlock looking at John when he had a closer look at the crime scene. And finally, he watched them looking surprised at each other. And it was something to see.</p><p>The corpse had been mutilated like the last. But this one had been bound to the London Eye. Way up high. Someone had hung him upside down. The hands were tied separately to the metal. He was naked and you could see he had been whipped bloody. Welts and bruises were all over him. Sherlock looked at Lestrade.</p><p>“Can I go up?” Lestrade looked dead serious.</p><p>“Even we haven't been up yet!” He snorted.</p><p>“Only because Anderson is ...”</p><p>“Shut up, Sherlock!” John said and shot him a look. Sherlock pouted.</p><p>“I need to have a closer look before your forensics take him down.”</p><p>“Sherlock, you don't want to climb up there, do you?” Sherlock looked at John.</p><p>“Of course! I can't get up there any other way, can I?”</p><p>“I suppose not ...” He touched his arm.</p><p>“Please be careful!” Sherlock looked at John's hand resting gently on his arm. It felt good. He smiled.</p><p>“I will.” Then he shrugged out of his coat and gave it to John. And then he started to climb. Lestrade stood beside John.</p><p>“He is insane.” John nodded.</p><p>“We know that, don't we?” They watched him climbing up like a pro. John's heart was beating fast and heavily against his ribs.</p><p>“John, you are as pale as Sherlock. Are you feeling sick?”</p><p>“What? No, it's just ...” He shook his head.</p><p>“You care for him.” They looked at each other.</p><p>“Of course, I do. You do, too.”</p><p>“Not the way you do, John.”</p><p>***</p><p>Sherlock was grabbing the metal railings piece after piece. He was careful, John could see it. He climbed the very last metres and then he was as close to the corpse as possible. He stopped and single-handedly took some photos with his mobile. Then he somehow managed to get into gloves.</p><p>John worried his lips and Lestrade shuddered. Then Sherlock tried to get even closer stepping on the same rail to which the body was tied to. John could see him sniff the skin and poke it with his fingers.</p><p>When he was done, he moved to the side until he reached a cabin. He unlocked the door and got inside. Two seconds later John's mobile rang. He got it out and put it on speaker.</p><p>“Yes, Sherlock?”</p><p>“Estimated time of death between one and three last night. Raped, whipped and peed on. There still is a plug inside him.” He paused.</p><p>“Oh, my God! This is horrible!” John whispered.</p><p>“Yes, and it is another killer. The restraints are done differently. The knots which were used are better. Perhaps this has been the master and the one before ...”</p><p>“You think he is some kind of teacher or mentor?”</p><p>“Sort of. He shows how it is supposed to be done correctly.”</p><p>“Mainly not getting arrested while doing this completely in public.”</p><p>“Exactly, John. Oh, and could you tell Lestrade to bring this thing down? I am cold now.”</p><p>“Yes, I'll do. See you in a second.” Lestrade ordered to start the machines and slowly Sherlock came down again. And so did the corpse.</p><p>John stepped up closer and very quickly moved back again. It was absolutely horrific and it smelled just gruesome, too.<br/>
He watched Sherlock's cabin touch down and he hurried up to his side bringing his coat. He saw that Sherlock was paler than usual. He carefully laid his hand on his arm.</p><p>“Are you OK?” Sherlock looked into his blue, worried eyes. He thinly smiled.</p><p>“I am just freezing, John. Let's go home.” They looked at each other.</p><p>“Let's then.” John didn't let go of him and none of them really noticed. Lestrade did.</p><p>***</p><p>During their cab-ride home John noticed Sherlock was shivering.</p><p>“Sherlock, are you feeling sick?” Sherlock tried to analyse his feelings.</p><p>“Indeed, I do feel a bit nauseated. Dizzy. Hot.” Now John was worried. He reached out to touch his friend's forehead but he jerked back.</p><p>“Did you hurt yourself up on that bloody wheel, Sherlock?” But he shook his head.</p><p>“No, but … Just don't.” He closed his eyes and all but fell back into the seat of the cab. He was paler than ever and John took his pulse. It was racing.</p><p>“I think you are having the flue.” Sherlock opened his eyes half-way.</p><p>“I never get sick, John. Don't be stupid.” He sounded rough already.</p><p>“I am a doctor if you care to remember.”</p><p>“You are an army-doctor. You don't do the flue.” John chuckled.</p><p>“I am working at the A&amp;E part-time, you git. Now shut up and let me help you because we are home.” John paid the cab and managed to get Sherlock out and upstairs. He shoved him from behind and he grabbed the railing hard. When they were standing upstairs, he swayed and was panting. His cheeks were red and he was sweating.<br/>
John ushered him inside and he moved already into the direction of the sofa.</p><p>“No, no, no. It's bed-time, Sherlock.” He all but moaned but changed directions. John followed and made him undress. His hands were in the way as if he didn't want to be touched but John didn't care.</p><p>Sherlock's teeth were shattering by now and he got him a pyjama. He pulled up the duvet and sat by his side trying to touch his forehead again.</p><p>“No!” His arms came up again and John got angry by now.</p><p>“Sherlock, stop that immediately! It's me, John.” He held his wrist and looked desperate.</p><p>“John ...” His eyes turned back into his head and gone he was. John felt he was hot, burning. His hair was damp. John took his temperature. He was seriously sick.</p><p>How was it possible he got sick so quickly? John worried his lips and looked at him. Then he decided to stay by his side. He got a blanket and some tea and sat in the armchair in Sherlock's room.<br/>
Sometime later he started to move and his head moved quickly from side to side. He mumbled something and John stood up.</p><p>“No, don't, no. Please, don't. Don't do this to me, please ...” He was panting again. John again took his temperature and he saw it was a bit lower. He sat by his side and lightly slapped his cheeks.</p><p>“Sherlock, can you hear me? It's me, John! I am here. You are safe.” His eyelids fluttered and he tried to touch him now. John grabbed his hand and held him.</p><p>“John ...” He became calmer and fell asleep again. But he didn't let go of John.</p><p>John reconsidered his diagnosis. This hadn't been the flue. This had been some sort of a nightmare. Sherlock had been shocked after he had looked at the corpse. He had remembered something. And had reacted to that. He didn't want to be touched or held.</p><p>John worried his lips. He needed to talk to him. Sherlock needed to tell him what bothered him that much.</p><p>He sat beside him for a long time and pressed a cold fabric on his forehead. He also held his hand. Sherlock didn't move an inch.</p><p>John was extremely worried. He sat on the floor in front of his bed and kept holding his hand. Hours later he fell asleep with his head resting on the mattress.</p><p>***</p><p>There were pictures in Sherlock's head which had been buried for years in the deepest wings of his mind-palace. He couldn't help it; they just came up. He felt John close and let him handle the situation. He felt being home sometimes later. He felt his bed. He fell asleep. But he was dreaming. He dreamt of his past. He dreamt of his time at university when he had met Sebastian. He thought he loved him but he didn't love him back. But Sherlock had loved him, trusted him. He had shown him pleasure he didn't know before. He wanted more, he wanted everything.</p><p>He had been raped. He had been a virgin but Sebastian didn't care. He tortured him, bruised him, made him do things he never thought possible between lovers. He never told anyone; not even Mycroft.</p><p>And when uni was over he just left. And forgot. Somehow. Until now. He felt the bruises. He felt the pain in his sore wrists, in his sore backside. The welts on his back and cheeks. The plug holding his tongue down. The clamps hurting his nipples.<br/>
He was panting. And he heard a voice.</p><p>“Sherlock? Please wake up! It's me, John! You are safe with me! Wake up!” And wake up he did.</p><p>***</p><p>John was helpless. He had woken up to Sherlock's noises. His head lolled from left to right and back. He was sweating and panting. His lips formed words John couldn't understand. But he saw how stressed he was, how much in pain he was. And he shouted at him to wake up. And he made him wake up.</p><p>“Sherlock, what happened to you? You need to talk to me. Let me help you. Please?” John carefully held his hand.</p><p>“I can't ...” Sherlock's voice was rough and he slowly shook his head.</p><p>“I felt it again. Everything came back. I couldn't deal. John, I ...” And Sherlock started to cry. John was shocked. He felt cold. Sherlock's words had made his soul shiver.</p><p>“Whenever you need me, I will be here for you. Whatever you need, I will provide it.” The words slowly sipped into Sherlock's brain and he stopped sobbing.</p><p>“Why?” He simply asked.</p><p>“Because I love you.”</p>
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